Rebecca Tiger's story pit bull puppy

Lovely Rutland by Rebecca Tiger

It was the farthest north they had ever been. L’il Markie and Frank traveled with their mom to New York City on an overnight train, the Silver Meteor, from Jacksonville to Penn Station. Janelle waited with her boys for three hours in New York City to put them on the Ethan Allen Express to Rutland, Vermont. L’il Markie, 8, the youngest, wanted her to ride the last five hours with them, but she vowed never to enter her ex-husband’s home state again.

A man came up and held out his dirty hand. He smelled like piss. His hair was greasy and knotted, his nails long and brown. There were black stains on his jeans that looked like they were disintegrating on him. At 12, Frank thought that he, as the oldest man of the family, shouldn’t show fear. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek.

“What does he want, Mom?”

“Money,” Janelle answered. “Which you have none to spare.”

Frank instinctively touched the fanny pack that held $100 his mother had given him for emergencies. “I hope there are none, but just in case,” she had said, handing the money to her wide-eyed son.

She grabbed her boys’ arms and walked away. The man followed them but soon lost interest, distracted by another target.

“What does he need money for?”

“Nothing good, L’il Markie. Probably beer or worse. Don’t worry about him, just keep focused on your brother.”

Frank wasn’t used to this sharpness in his mother’s voice.

“Please watch out for your baby brother.”

“I will.”

“Oh, Frankie, I’m nervous. I don’t like you two being away from me.”

“We don’t have to go, Mom.”

“Yes, you do. You boys should get to know your father, see how he is.”

***

It had been five years since Janelle kicked Troy out—a simple enough decision. Troy worked for Janelle’s father, installing aluminum panels at Sunshine Siding. Troy worked hard. He also became a hard drinker, though Janelle would only realize the extent of it after they were parents.

One afternoon, Troy was on kid duty and thought it would be fun to take his sons, then 7 and 4, on a joyride to the Bottle ’N Brew to get another 12-pack. He put Frank and L’il Markie in the back of the blue Chevy Nova. They bounced around with glee as Poppy sped down the winding roads and took curves too fast, giggling when they crashed into each other, pushed to the right and left by the force of a turn. This trip was like a ride at an amusement park, but the state trooper who stopped them didn’t find it funny at all. The kids were in the back, staring with wide eyes, L’il Markie’s face turning red as tears streamed down his cheeks. They watched as the man in the khaki uniform pulled Poppy out of the car as he stumbled trying to walk a straight line. The trooper came back to the car and took the keys from the ignition, sighing and asking the boys, “You want to see what it’s like to ride in a police car with the siren on?”

Troy drove back home to the Green Mountain State once his probation transferred, promising a weepy L’il Markie that he’d be back soon to visit. Frank took his mother’s side; he was old enough to suspect that maybe Poppy was up to no good in ways he was too young to fully comprehend. Troy, perpetually on the cusp of broke—“You know me, bro, money comes in the front door and out the back!”—never headed south again. He called regularly, sometimes talking like he had a mouth full of cotton balls. L’il Markie loved these phone calls. He’d tell Poppy everything he’d done, which wasn’t much at his age. Frank would say hello then hand the phone back to his mom.

***

“They’re finally coming, bro!” Troy tells his friend and neighbor Heath. The news of his sons’ visit has captivated the small and rapid gossip chain of West Rutland’s Briar Hill Road, eclipsing the recent episode when Heath’s estranged son drunkenly pounded on his father’s front door yelling, “Open up, you useless fat fuck,” his voice echoing through the cool dusk air.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m jealous. But I’m happy for you, man. Family’s the most important thing,” Heath says, tearing up. Troy is wiry, lean, boyish looking at 41, while Heath is large and soft.

“They’re coming all the way up to see me! On the train, bro!” The Amtrak station is about a 20-minute drive, near Muckenschabel’s Tavern, so Troy’s going to make an afternoon of it, stopping in for just one beer and a visit with his friend who recently bought the bar and is changing its vibe to draw in the younger crowd priced out of Burlington.

***

“Pulling into Rutland, lovely, lonely Rutland,” the conductor says as the train screeches to a stop. Frank is startled. His eyes are adjusting to the dark and he didn’t see the tiny station when they came in. He recognizes Poppy, who is standing on the platform. L’il Markie’s head is against the window. He’s sleeping but Frank’s eyes are wide open, his brow is furrowed. Troy chuckles at the sight. He told Heath that he wants to show Frank a good time, he’s pretty sure Janelle is no fun, that she babies these boys. Though Troy has said, “Fuck that bitch, bro,” about his ex more than once to his friend, he swears he’s going to play things nice. He is determined, he emphasizes to Heath, that this will be a good visit and the boys will have a glowing report for Janelle.

On the drive back to West Rutland, L’il Markie falls asleep in the back, straining his seat belt, the one that Troy promised Janelle he’d make them wear. She had a list of instructions.  “You don’t know them that well,” she reasoned, pointing out to Troy that putting them on this train was a sign that yes, Troy, she did trust him. Janelle and Troy communicate through lies, fibs meant to keep up some kind of appearance that she didn’t make a dumb choice of a father for her kids. When Troy finally called her bluff, said “Okay, it’s time for them to visit then, they’re not babies anymore,” there was little Janelle could reasonably say in protest. He had kept up his weekly calls. He hadn’t been re-arrested yet. He had sent her $237 a month, a paltry amount but exactly what family court ordered, like he was supposed to. “What more did you want?”

“We’re going to have fun this week, buddy,” Troy tells Frank, who is looking out the window at the dark landscape, so few lights.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

***

Frank hears a noise outside. He opens his eyes and sees Poppy in the living room, lying on the couch with bottles around him. Troy gave his sons the bed. L’il Markie is sleeping next to Frank, who hears a voice outside getting louder.

“Hello! Hello!” No one locks their door on Briar Hill Road so Heath walks in. “What the fuck, bro!” Troy yells, covering his head with a pillow.

“I’ve got a surprise for you three!” Heath walks to the bedroom doorway and looks in at the boys. Heath sees the resemblance between Troy and the older one: An angular face, a skeptical look, wiry strawberry blonde hair standing up in different directions.

“Yup, he’s definitely yours!”

“Who else’s would he be?” Troy is putting on his daily uniform, khaki shorts and a t-shirt, this time a blue one with PATRIOTS written in bold red letters. There are creases where Troy folded the shirt. He is meticulous with his clothes; folds his boxer shorts too.

“Ouch, fuck!” Troy screams as he steps on a beer bottle top. He jumps on one foot and rubs the other.

“Late night with your boys?”

“Nope, straight to bed for all of us.”

“Well, get up, lazies! I’ve got something I want to show you!”

L’il Markie sits up. He’s more of his mother, dark hair and eyes. While Frank is all angles and points, L’il Markie’s soft. His pale skin is smooth, his fingers are like sausages, his cheeks round. His eyes are dark too, making it hard to distinguish the pupil from the iris.

The boys dress quickly.

“The surprise is out in my truck.”

Heath walks out the front door. Troy follows and so do the boys. Heath’s blue pick up is parked on Troy’s front lawn. There is something moving in the truck’s cab, a muffled whimper too.

“Look what I found!” Heath opens the passenger side door. A puppy jumps out, and squirms low to the ground. It’s white with light orange patches randomly covering its body and its right eye. Frank walks closer and the dog rolls on its back, with its tail wriggling still.

“Can I pet it?”

“Of course you can! You’ve never seen a dog before?” Heath teases.

Troy seems annoyed at his son’s reticence. Troy had a pet snake as a kid, Stevie Nicks. Troy would let Stevie out of her cage and wander around his room. One time Stevie got out and was loose in the house for several months. His mother was terrified of snakes and on edge until Stevie slithered up the stairs to the basement, re-joining the family. From then on, she stayed in her cage. Troy once fed Stevie a live mouse. It ran around the edge of the cage until Stevie caught it in its mouth and crushed it with his teeth. Troy could hear the mouse’s faint death squeals. From then on, he fed it frozen rodents he got at the pet store.

“And now my son doesn’t know what to do with a fucking dog because his goddamn mother shelters him,” Troy mutters to Heath, rubbing his forehead.

Frank walks over to the excited animal and sits down next to it. L’il Markie is looking with wide eyes from his father to the dog, waiting for stage directions. He goes over too. The boys are sitting on the grass while the puppy jumps from one lap to the other, licking the boys, nipping at their noses and chins. Frank and L’il Markie are laughing, tumbling on their backs as the puppy tries to get at their faces.

“What’s the deal, Heath?”

“A buddy of mine called. He said this guy he knew who was staying in the Econo Lodge on Route 7 had this pit bull puppy living in his truck. If someone didn’t take it within a week, he was going to shoot it. That sounded sad to me. So I brought it here.”

“Here? Meaning to my place?”

“Yeah. I thought the boys might like it. They could play with it.”

“It looks like a girl to me!” Troy says loudly to the boys.

“Let’s call her Coco!” Frank yells back.

“Don’t get too attached to her!” he tells the boys. “We’re not keeping her,” he whispers to Heath.

“Come on, Troy, how about just for the week? Then I’ll find someplace else for her.”

***

Troy, Frank, L’il Markie and Coco get into the blue Nova. They drive to town to get Coco a leash and some kibble. The plan is that Frank will stay in the car with Coco while Troy and L’il Markie go into Walmart.

“Dogs are expensive.”

“I have money!” Frank unzips his fanny pack. He hands his father a $20 bill.

“Give me another,” Troy says. Frank complies.

“We’ll be quick,” Troy tells Frank.

Coco stares out the window after them, whimpering while Frank pets her and tells her she’s okay now, she’s his baby Coco.

They come back with a bag filled with supplies.

“We got her a bowl for water! It was my idea!” L’il Frankie is pleased with himself.

Troy takes out a collar and puts it around Coco’s neck. It’s too big. “She can grow into it,” he says when Frank looks on with wide eyes and creases in his forehead.

“I want you to meet my friend Jason,” he tells the boys as he puts the key in the ignition. “He owns a place nearby.”

“What about Coco?” Franks asks.

“We’ll leave her in the car, buddy. She’ll be okay.”

“But we need a blanket so she can lie down on something soft!”

Troy shakes his head. He gets out of the car.

“Are we in trouble, Frank?”

“You’re not.”

They watch Troy walk into Walmart. Coco is curled up on Frank’s lap. She’s breathing quickly and making low growling noises.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, Markie. She’s just having a bad dream.”

Troy opens the driver’s side door and throws a bag on Frank’s lap. Coco is startled and climbs into the back. Inside is a fleece blanket, pink with black paw prints.

“For our girl,” Troy says, as he puts the car in reverse.

***

Jason pours and Troy doesn’t say no, so one beer turns into many. The boys are sitting at the bar next to Troy, drinking cokes. Janelle doesn’t let them drink sodas, so it’s fun. Frank is getting anxious about Coco and so runs out periodically to check on her. She looks up at him through the window, her tail wagging underneath the blanket he’s wrapped her in.

“She might need to pee,” he tells Troy.

“Then take her around the parking lot, bro.” Troy hands Frank the keys.

“I wanna go!” L’il Markie yells.

“You can.”

Frank has never opened a car door before. He’s never had a dog. He’s never taken one for a walk. This trip is new and he’s nervous, shaky from the sugar, but also excited. This feels like a different life. It’s starting to be the adventure he vaguely hoped for, a change. By the time he figures out the key, Coco is jumping around, howling.

Frank opens the door. Coco jumps out and crouches down immediately. The warm yellow liquid sizzles as it hits the hot asphalt.

“She’s peeing! She’s peeing!” L’il Markie yells, laughing at the new sight, jumping in place.

Frank reaches down and holds Coco’s collar. He forgot to hook the leash so he’s trying to guide Coco by the neck back to the car. As they approach the door, she backs away and slips out of the loose collar. She runs around the side of the building.

“She’s getting away!” Frank yells. L’il Markie starts to cry.

“Go inside and get Poppy!”

When Troy comes out, he stumbles a bit. “This is why I didn’t want a damn dog!”

Troy walks where Frank points. Coco is crouching behind a large metal trash can. She’s looking at Troy. He goes to the car, opens the bag of food and brings a handful of kibble that he holds out on his palm. Coco slowly comes out and starts eating from his hand. When she’s done, he grabs her and walks past his sons, putting her in the back seat.

Troy walks into the bar. He comes out with a 6-pack of Bud Light. “On the house,” Jason tells him when he reaches for his wallet.

“Let’s head home,” he says to the boys. Frank is looking at the beer, his stomach tightening. He gets in the back with Coco and L’il Markie.

***

L’il Markie is asleep by the time they pull into the makeshift driveway, a truckload of gravel smoothed down with time.

“I’ll get him, you take my beer.”

Troy gets out and opens the back door. He gently lifts L’il Markie and puts him over his shoulder. Coco hops out. Frank notices his father stumble a bit. He is partially keeping his promise to watch over his brother.

Frank opens the front door. Coco races in, after peeing on the car’s tire. Troy takes L’il Markie and lays him down on the bed. Frank follows behind but Troy stops him.

“You’re old enough to stay up with me for a bit,” Troy says. Frank takes it as a command.

Frank puts the beer on the scuffed coffee table and sits on the couch. Coco jumps up next to him. Frank looks at his father, as if to ask if it’s okay that she did this.

“It’s a piece of shit,” Troy answers. “One more mangy creature won’t do it in.”

Frank pets Coco, who has settled down with her head in his lap.

“You love that dog already, don’t you?” Troy asks.

“Yes. She’s cute. My mom won’t let me get a dog.” Frank answers.

“You know, I was married to your mom,” Troy says.

“I know,” Frank answers.

“So, I know what she’s like. I know she can be tough.” Troy leans over, grabs a beer, it fizzes softly as he pulls off the tab. He gets up, walks to the kitchen and returns with a small glass into which he pours about an inch of beer, mostly foam, and hands it to Frank.

“Try this,” he says, plopping down next to his son.

Frank looks at the glass. He knows his mother would be furious at him for even thinking about it. He puts the cup to his mouth and takes a sip.

“Yuck. It’s bitter!” he grimaces.

Troy laughs. Frank starts laughing too. They’re just looking at each other laughing.

“I’ve missed you, kid,” Troy says.

Frank’s face turns red. His forehead wrinkles as he unsuccessfully tries to stop the tears that are now streaming down his face, which he covers with his hand. His body silently moves as he stifles sobs. Coco licks at the salty water that seeps through his fingers.

***

Janelle is waiting by the Dunkin’ Donuts in Penn Station exactly where she told the boys to meet her when they arrived on the train. She keeps looking from her phone to the arrivals board, counting the minutes, seconds it should take them to make their way to her. If they get lost, how will she ever find them? They are two small boys and this station is so big.

A disheveled man comes up to her and asks for money. She jumps, opening her eyes wide, and says, “Alright, let me see what I have.” She hands him a few loose dollars she digs out of her purse. She puts them into his dirty hands. He stares at her then turns and approaches another passenger with the same question.

“Mommy!” She hears L’il Markie’s voice as she sees her boys run up to her. She starts crying and patting them both all over as if checking for broken bones.

Frank knows enough now not to say “A lot of fun!” when Janelle asks him how the week was so he answers: “It went by fast.” This is the first of many secrets he will keep from his mother, omissions that let him have something of his own.

“Do you have any money left?”

“Yeah, most of it,” He unzips the fanny pack and hands her a bank envelope with $60 in it.

“What did you buy, big spender?” she asks.

“Um, stuff for Coco, a leash and collar and a tag with her name on it,” he says.

“Who’s Coco? What has your father gotten you into!”

“She’s my new puppy,” Frank says.

“And she’ll be full grown when we visit her next summer!” L’il Markie chimes in.

*

Learn more about Rebecca on our Contributors’ Page.

(Photo: ondonata98/flickr.com/ CC BY 2.0)


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Rebecca Tiger
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